Don't Fear the Reaper
by only-some-loser
Summary: He may have saved the world from the disease, but Mac didn't do it without getting infected himself. Now, he is going to die alone, and there's nothing Jack can do about it. (episode AU tag to 3x09, Specimen 234 PAPR Outbreak, not a deathfic)


**AN: First things first, this is NOT a deathfic. Also, this contains the strongest language I have ever written ever, but when you read it, I think you'll understand. Like the summary says, this is a tag to 3x09, Specimen 234 + PAPR + Outbreak. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

"No one else was supposed to die," the deranged, sick man said. "But you ruined everything!" he shouted, lunging at Mac. The blond quickly moved out of the way and grabbed the canvas. He could use that to wrap around the man and subdue him, hopefully without getting himself infected in the process. But, as usual, luck was not on his side when he needed it the most. Just as he reached the man's neck with the syringe, Dr. Luca reached out with his own hands and gripped Mac's neck, squeezing hard. Mac fought through the shock, pain, and inability to breathe, quickly dropping the man with the heavy sedative. He wrapped him in the canvas and shoved him in the closet. The next thing he knew, Jack and Bozer were there, helping him to further seal the man off.

"Way to go, brother," Jack said with a smile, reaching up to pat Mac on the back.

"No!" Mac shouted, lifting up his hands in front of him and stepping away from his friends. "You can't touch me," he said. He took another few steps away from them, and brought his hands close to his body, trying to make himself take up as little space as possible.

Realization quickly dawned on both Jack and Bozer's faces. Bozer just stood there in shock, but Jack stepped closer.

"No, Mac..." he trailed off. "Tell me he didn't, tell me that bastard didn't touch you."

Shakily, Mac nodded his head. He tried to keep his breathing calm and even. Getting a panic attack at the thought of imminent death slowly approaching as the disease with no cure ravaged his body over the next few days wouldn't help. The least he could do was keep his friends from the same fate. Mac backed against the wall, and quickly found the corner of the room. It took all of his willpower to not let himself slide down the wall and cry. He was going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. Mac was terrified.

He made eye contact with Jack, who had the same tears in his eyes that Mac did. Jack took another few steps closer to Mac, then took a glance at the closet containing Dr. Luca. Mac knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Jack, no, don't, please, you can't," he begged. He quickly rubbed a hand over his eyes to stop the tears from falling, but if Jack went through with that idiotic plan, there wouldn't be anything he could do to stop them. "You can't give up, please. Don't touch me, and don't you dare touch him, okay?"

"Mac-"

"But there's a chance, right?" Bozer interrupted. He took a step closer to Mac, and looked much more hopeful than either Mac or Jack. "You said it has a ninety-nine percent mortality rate. That means that one out of every one hundred people who get it will live, right? So if anyone can beat this, it's Mac." Bozer looked straight at Mac with nothing in his eyes but hope and love. There was no fear, and no sadness. He had the utmost faith in him. "Mac, you can do this. You can beat this. We'll get you to the best hospital in the world, and get you the best care money can provide. I'll rob a bank myself to get the funds if I need to. You're gonna be okay. I'll go meet the ambulance outside." Bozer ran out of the room, not looking back.

Mac couldn't look at Jack. Technically, he knew Bozer was right. There was a one in one hundred chance that he could survive this, but he wasn't going to bet on it. So he couldn't look at Jack, he couldn't look at the man that meant everything to him, because then he would fall apart and he couldn't do that. He needed to make this as easy as he could on him. No matter what, it would be hard, but he needed to be strong for Jack. He could still die with his dignity.

"You're gonna beat this," Jack said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are going to survive. You're young, and strong, and in basically perfect physical condition. You're gonna be okay."

Mac didn't know how to respond. Should he give Jack false hope and proclaim that yes, he would survive? Or should he make Jack face the reality that Mac was likely going to die suffering? Neither option was good, so instead of saying anything, he wrapped his arms around his torso and hung his head. Mac wanted nothing more than for Jack to wrap him in his arms and convince him that everything was going to be okay, but that couldn't happen. That couldn't ever happen again. Mac was never going to feel Jack's arms around him again. He would never feel anyone's touch again. He was going to die and he wouldn't even be able to have someone hold him in his final moments. Mac couldn't stop the tears from beginning to fall.

* * *

Jack had never felt more helpless in his life. His partner, his best friend, his little brother, his son, was falling apart and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. He couldn't do anything but watch as people in hazmat suits collected Mac and Dr. Luca, and brought them to separate ambulances with all the technology needed to keep the disease contained. Dr. Luca would be staying in the hospital in Slovenia. He was too far gone, and would be dead within the day. There was no saving him. But Mac, maybe, just maybe, they could save him.

As quickly as possible, Mac was transferred to El Camino Hospital in Mountain View, California. It was supposed to be one of the best hospitals in the world, and Matty had already said she would personally finance all of Mac's treatment if she couldn't get Phoenix to cover it. But due to the nature of the disease, Mac had to be kept in isolation. No visitors allowed. All Jack could do was watch from a window too far away, and look on in despair as Mac shook with pain. Hospital staff was constantly filtering in and out, taking all kinds of samples from the kid, and although Jack knew they were just doing their jobs and trying to save the boy, he just wanted them to stop hurting his kid. Mac hated hospitals, and hated needles. Jack should have been in there to hold him and distract him and keep him sane, but he couldn't. He couldn't do fucking anything.

Jack turned and punched the wall with a shout. He screamed at the wall, letting out all his anger at that barrier between him and his kid. He didn't care who saw, or who he scared. All he cared about was the kid in the room he couldn't enter, who was alone and scared and fucking dying and Jack couldn't even be there to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay, even if it wasn't. If this was the end for the boy, then there was no force on earth that would be able to stop Jack from going in there to hold his kid in his final moments. Nothing could stop him from doing that. Besides, if Mac's fate was sealed, then so was Jack's, so getting infected didn't matter.

"Jack," came a soft voice from down the hall. Jack turned towards it, his eyes still ablaze with fury. It was Riley. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Scaring her wasn't something he wanted to do, Jack quickly realized.

"Hey," he said, his throat aching from both emotion and his scream. He dropped his clenched fists to his sides, and worked to relax them.

Riley didn't respond. What was there to say? It was pointless to ask if Jack was okay, because he clearly was not, and it was pointless to ask about Mac. Jack's reaction said all that could be said. The kid was still dying. But, Riley did walk up to him, and brought her arms around him, pressing her head into his shoulder. Of course, Jack returned the gesture. He held her gently, massaging her neck. He loved the girl, but Jack couldn't help but wish it was Mac he was holding, because that would mean the kid would live, and that was all Jack wanted. He would give up everything in the world for that kid, but nothing would be enough. It was out of Jack's hands - really, it was never in them to begin with. Honestly, it wasn't in the doctors' hands either. With a disease as terrible as this one, the doctors couldn't be expected to pull off a miracle.

"It should have been me," Jack muttered into her hair. "I'm supposed to protect him, and I failed. I should've found that bastard doctor first and been the one to get infected, not Mac. Not the kid. Never the kid." Jack held Riley tighter and closed his eyes against the tears, but she pulled away.

"No, this isn't on you, okay?" she said. Riley reached down and took one of Jack's hands in her own. "Mac knows the consequences of this job, and he did his duty. You're only human, Jack," she said. She wiped at her own eyes to stop the tears, but they fell anyway. "Mac wouldn't want you to blame yourself for this, and you know that."

"Mac wouldn't want to be dying in pain and suffering and alone either, yet here we are," Jack bitterly responded. He shook his head and turned away from Riley, and back to the window, to Mac, who looked asleep - well, unconscious was probably more accurate.

"Jack," Riley started, trying to grab at Jack's arm to catch his attention. He ignored her, and stood with his arms crossed, facing the kid in the hospital bed. Maybe Riley said his name a few more times, but Jack didn't respond. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything other than Mac. Riley would be fine.

* * *

To say that it had been an emotional week would be an understatement. Everything that happened with Billy was great, but it seemed a million years away. Meeting her grandmother for the first time was an experience she would treasure forever, but now, all she could think about was the fact that she had been laughing and having a good time while her little brother had begun fighting for his life against a disease that killed ninety-nine out of a hundred people. And now, Jack was shutting down. He wasn't paying attention to her, or Bozer, or even Matty. He hadn't even given Leanna the time of day, and he hadn't cared to say anything to Cage when Riley had called her to let her know what was going on. All he did was stare through the window at Mac. He was falling apart almost as much as Mac, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. The only one could was lying on a hospital bed in isolation.

"What are we gonna do?" she asked Matty, trying to keep her tears at bay. She had done enough crying throughout the last week to last the rest of the year.

"All that we can do," Matty replied in a gentle voice. Emotion was swirling in her own eyes, but she reached out and rested her hand on top of Riley's. "Pray."

Riley nodded, wiping at her eyes. "If Mac doesn't-" she stopped. She couldn't say it. "I don't think the team will make it. It was one thing when he was in Nigeria, because we all knew he would come back eventually, but if he really- if he really-" she broke off again. "It'll kill Jack too, and Bozer will never be the same."

"And you too," Matty added. "I know Mac is like a little brother to you, and I know if this is the end for him, then you won't ever be the same either."

"I guess he's the duct tape that holds the team together," Riley said, forcing a smile. Mac would like that. He really loved duct tape.

"If anyone can pull through this, it's Mac," Matty said, a gentle smile of her own gracing her face.

"He has to."

* * *

Mac didn't know how long it had been, only that he wished it would end. He was in so much pain, and he just wanted it to be over. But more than anything, he wanted Jack. Jack was always there for him when he was sick. He was always there to hold him through the pain and fever dreams, he was always there to rub his back while he threw up, he was always there to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't going to be okay. Mac was dying, and Jack wasn't there. He missed him so much. He wouldn't even get to say goodbye. He didn't have the chance before he was loaded into the ambulance back in Slovenia, and he hadn't seen his team since.

If he had the strength to, Mac would wipe the tears away, but he was just so weak that even lifting up his hand was too much. It was the end of the line. Mac knew it was over. He would be dead by the end of the day, and he didn't care. He was glad the pain would be over, but he just wish he could see Jack just one more time.

But the day was slowly moving on and on, and he wasn't dead yet. The doctors and nurses kept coming in in their hazmat suits and they kept giving him strange looks. What was going on? They weren't telling him anything - or maybe they were, and he was just too out of it to understand anything. That was definitely a possibility.

Mac woke up the next morning to a major surprise. He woke up. That was a surprise. He should be dead, but he wasn't yet. And even more, he felt just a little bit less terrible than he had the last few days. Mac didn't want to get his hopes up that he might actually survive, but it was impossible not to think of the possibility. He had already outlived the timeframe of the disease. He should be dead, and yet he wasn't.

A few more days went by, and Mac again woke up to a surprise. It was the best surprise of his life. It was Jack. But he couldn't be real. He had seen Jack again and again in his fever dreams and hallucinations, and he had never been real before. This was no different. Mac was still going to die, and Jack was just here as a fever dream to prove that. But, Jack looked sad, but also happy. Was he crying?

"Ja-Jack," he said, his throat aching. Mac didn't think he had purposely spoken in days.

"Mac!" Jack nearly shouted, jerking his head up and staring at him. "Oh, Mac." He launched himself forward and scooped Mac up into his arms. That had to mean Jack was real. Mac wouldn't be able to feel him, or be held by him, if he were a dream. He could feel him. Mac never thought he would feel Jack's arms around him ever again. He couldn't stop the tears from falling.

Jack pulled away, probably in response to noticing that Mac had begun to cry, but Mac just held on harder. "No!" he shouted. "Don't leave, please don't leave, don't let go, please, just stay, please stay." He dug his fingers into Jack's shirt as hard as he could, which probably wasn't that hard, because he was still weak, but he couldn't let Jack go. If he did, then maybe Jack would disappear, and Mac would be dying alone again. He really didn't want to die alone. "Please don't leave me," he muttered into Jack's shoulder.

"I am never leaving you again," Jack said. Mac could hear the tears in his voice. "But you're gonna be okay. Bozer was right. You were the one percent who would survive. You're not gonna die, bud. You're gonna be okay." Mac just gripped him and cried harder. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to die. Jack was there, telling him that everything was going to be okay. He would think that maybe he was already dead, but he still felt a bit of pain, so he knew he couldn't be. But Jack was there, and that was all that mattered.

Within a few minutes, the rest of the team came in to see him, and they all gave him the biggest hugs he'd ever had. Normally, Mac would've hated that kind of attention, but he thought he was never going to see them or feel them ever again, so he was okay with it this time. Riley even facetimed Cage so she could see that he really was okay. She promised that she would come and visit soon too.

That night, Mac couldn't keep his eyes open. Finding out that he wasn't going to die, and would even be released from the hospital in a few days had been amazing. But even more amazing were his family, who had stayed at the hospital since his admission. Apparently, Jack had watched through the window nearly the entire time, only leaving to go to the bathroom. He had slept on the floor as close as he could, and Riley had brought him food. Once Mac had been transferred to a non-isolation room - Mac must've been unconscious when that happened - Jack had gone straight there, and had refused to leave his side. Even now, as Mac couldn't stop the pull of sleep from dragging him under, Jack was there, holding his hand. Jack was never going to leave, and Mac wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
